


The Starlight Conundrum

by starrysummernights



Category: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Genre: Coming of Age, First Love, First Time, Hand Jobs, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Masturbation, No Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:44:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrysummernights/pseuds/starrysummernights
Summary: It’s uncomfortable having sex with yourself. But when Dante was there, watching me, it was anything but embarrassing.





	The Starlight Conundrum

**Author's Note:**

> Aristotle and Dante are both 18 during the events of this story.

There world is large and wide and full of mysteries. Hundreds of mysteries. Thousands. Millions. Little ones and big ones and right in the middles ones. I’ll never understand them all. I wouldn’t have time, even if I wanted.

But one mystery stands out above all the others. One mystery is more important to me than anything else in the world and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to solve it: my boyfriend, Dante Quintana.

* * *

 

It all started because I was probably the only teenage boy who had problems masturbating.

Not “ _problems_ ”. The word “problems” made it sound like I didn’t function correctly physically, that my penis didn’t work or that I hadn’t matured enough. And that wasn’t the problem. Everything functioned…normally in that area. I was just embarrassed, really. About the whole thing. Every other boy my age seemed raring to go. They could barely contain themselves when it came to their dicks. When they weren’t talking loudly about something making them “bust a nut” they were drawing dicks in their notebooks or textbooks, telling dirty jokes, snickering when their shampoo in the locker room “looked like jizz,” and trading dirty magazines back and forth. No one else seemed to bother with privacy, and didn’t care if the whole world knew they got themselves off every night. Even their hand signals were dirty. I knew what they meant by the loosely closed fist, jerking suggestively near their groins but I pretended not to notice.

It embarrassed the hell out of me. All of it.

Not that I let anyone know that. Everyone already thought I was weird. I was stand-offish. A loner. I only had one real friend and I was dating him so add queer onto that list. I didn’t want the people at my school thinking I was weird over something so incredibly personal. I’d rather have died first.

I didn’t want Dante to know either. Not for the same reasons I didn’t want to kids from my school knowing, but for an entirely different set.

Dante was my boyfriend. We made out a lot. We had dry humped in the back of my truck once. Dante had experimented with other people in Chicago. He knew what he was doing and what he wanted. I wanted him to think I was cool and suave and knowledgeable. Not nervous and embarrassed every time I even touched myself.

But Dante being Dante, he eventually found out.

* * *

 

We were laying in the back of my truck at our usual spot, out in the desert, when Dante asked out of the blue:

“So, do you masturbate?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked me, but we’d never really talked about it. I usually avoided the subject. I didn’t see why this time should be any different. I shrugged. “I guess.”

“You _guess_?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound very…sure about it.” Dante sounded skeptical and for some reason that pissed me off.

“Well I am sure about it. Okay? I think I know what I do with my own body.”

Dante backed down. “Okay.”

I hoped that Dante would drop it. It wasn’t something I was comfortable discussing. But it was Dante so of course he wouldn’t.

“Don’t you want to know if I masturbate?” He prodded.

I thought he was angling to start a suggestive conversation like we sometimes had. A conversation that felt somehow forbidden even though it was just the two of us in the back of my truck, staring up at the sky. Those were the kind of conversations that made me embarrassed but my insides were all twisty afterwards and my thoughts were assaulted by images of Dante. I didn’t really like the conversation at the time we had them, but big things were revealed, or small things, and I thought about what Dante said for weeks.

“I know you do.” I smiled at him in the dark. “You’ve told me before.”

Dante laughed at that. “I guess I have. I still do it. Just in case you were wondering.”

I didn’t respond to that. Mainly because it sounded weird to say that I had been wondering about it. A lot. And Dante and I were dating so maybe that didn’t make it weird, but it still made something inside me squirm. “Mm.”

Dante laughed again and I thought he knew I was embarrassed but knowing Dante he probably found it endearing. He said that a lot about things I did. “Ari, you’re endearing.” He’d say and then kiss me so I couldn’t ask what that meant.

“I masturbate.” Dante said again. “Want to watch me do it?”

My stomach felt like it did when I jumped off the high dive at the pool: empty and light, scared and happy. I was suddenly pumped full of adrenaline and couldn’t breathe. I thought was scared.

“What?” My voice sounded strange in my ears, but Dante didn’t seem to notice because he just repeated himself.

“Do you want to watch me masturbate, Ari?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I stared fixedly up at the stars and felt my chest heaving with deep breaths. Why would Dante ask me something like that, I thought angrily. Something so personal? What was I supposed to say to that?

Would Dante get offended if I said no, that I didn’t want to watch him masturbate? Would I hurt his feelings? I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I loved Dante.

Only, I didn’t want to say no. That was the problem. And not just to keep from hurting Dante’s feelings. A curious, dark part of me wanted to say yes and watch Dante masturbate. I’d never seen another person- male or female- do that before and Dante was offering and we were dating and-

“Um…” I stalled, rubbing my sweaty hands on my jeans. “Right now?”

“Yeah...if you want me to. There’s no one around…”

That was a good point. We were miles from anyone else. There were no parents in the next room. No sound of television and voices to let us know we weren’t alone. We were all by ourselves here. My heart pounded and my palms were sweaty again.

“Ok.”

“Ok. Tell me to stop anytime if you want.”

Dante levered himself up and sat with his back against the windows of the truck. In a daze, I did the same. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Dante unzipped his jeans- the sound made me jump- and thumbed open the fly. He reached into the darkness of his opened jeans and pulled himself out.

My eyes widened and I went very, very still. I almost wasn’t even breathing while Dante fixed his jeans and underwear beneath his soft testicles so they didn’t pinch and held his penis in his right hand.

Dante was beautiful. All parts of Dante were beautiful and I’d fight anyone who said otherwise. I’d already seen Dante’s penis, in a vague way long ago when we’d stripped and ran around in the rain. I hadn’t really paid that much attention to it then because I wasn’t a pervert and I hadn’t wanted to leer at Dante and have him think that way about me.

That had been before we’d got together, started dating, so the rules were changed. I was supposed to look now.

It shouldn’t have been such a big deal for me to see Dante’s penis, here and now. But it was. Because it was in a different context. It was sexual. Dante was going to masturbate and I was going to watch.

“I like to start slow.” Dante whispered, and that lent the atmosphere that much more sensuality. He demonstrated, moving his hand slow, slow, slow over the entire length of his penis. It was dry and his skin dragged a little, but he didn’t seem to mind. His fingers went over the head of his penis and he tensed and hissed a little breath. He licked his palm and then brought it back to his penis, still slowly stroking but with more purpose. I realized my mouth was hanging open and closed it.

It was mesmerizing to watch Dante. I felt like a snake and Dante was the charmer. Or actually, Dante’s penis was the snake.

Dante the snake charmer.

I wondered if Dante would laugh or get offended.

I decided to keep the thought to myself.

“Will you kiss me, Ari? While I do it?” Dante asked, his voice unsteady. “Please?”

I leaned over and kissed him. Dante inhaled like I’d hurt him and I pulled away but Dante rushed closer and sealed our lips together again. I loved kissing Dante. We kissed again and again and again and again, and all the while I could feel Dante’s hand moving around in his lap, faster this time, and he was breathless but for some reason I was panting more than he was.

Finally, Dante broke off our kiss and leaned his forehead against mine, little ‘oh’s falling between us as he writhed slightly. I was shaking and breathing like I’d ran a mile.

“ _Ari_ …” Dante breathed. He’d never said my name like that before. I instantly loved it. I waited for him to say it again, but his body stiffened and I knew, even without looking, that he was having an orgasm. His body jerked against mine, gently, and his breath released unevenly in little pants. I kissed him.

I was hard in my jeans. I was very aware of it. I could feel my heartbeat in my penis and it was fluttery and fast. Too fast.

I looked away while Dante cleaned himself up, wondering if I should help, but he didn’t ask and I didn’t know how to suggest it so I let the thought go. Dante fumbled around and got himself all put away and righted, zipping up his jeans and then reached for his beer.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Well? You don’t have anything to say…after that?”

I thought about it. I had a lot of things I wanted to say- none of which I thought I could actually say.

“Can I kiss you again?”

I could see Dante’s grin even in the dark. “Yeah. You can kiss me again.”

* * *

 

I felt overheated when I got home that night. I figured it was because of the hot weather and staying out in the desert with Dante for hours. I flung myself on the bed and kicked all the covers off, laying spread-eagled on the mattress, but my skin still felt twitchy and all I could think of was the way Dante had said my name before he came.

It was hours before I was able to go to sleep.

* * *

 

When I woke up the next morning, I knew I was hard. I was pressed on my side and my erection was partially ground against the mattress. It hurt.

I scowled and turned so it wasn’t mashed, then tried to think of something else as a distraction. But I’d been having a good dream and I wanted to touch myself. A lot.

I made sure my door was tightly shut but was still squirmy when I reached in my boxers. I wasn’t shy, because when you’re an 18-year-old boy, you’re not _shy_. You don’t want anyone to ever say you’re shy. Apprehensive, maybe. Not _shy_.

The first touch of my hand on my penis sent a tremor through me and my penis hardened instantly. I thought of Dante touching himself last night.

It felt wrong to think of Dante like that, though, when he didn’t know. It made me feel dirty to have my way with him in my head without his permission.

I started stroking, mimicking the way Dante had demonstrated last night. I wondered what he thought about when he was masturbating.

My heavy breaths were back, tremulous this time, and I wondered if I were becoming an asthmatic.

When I came, I buried my face in my pillow, closing my eyes as tightly as I could, and whispered Dante’s name.

* * *

 

The next night, after we had been kissing for ages, Dante asked if I’d like to see him masturbate. I’d been half-hoping, half-fearing, he’d ask again.

This time, I nodded.

He grinned as he arranged himself like the previous night and shoved his jeans and underwear down to mid-thigh.

We kissed again while he did it. I could feel the stubble on his cheeks beneath my fingertips. It rasped under the pads and I stroked it. It felt different from my own and moved when Dante’s jaw worked as he kissed me. His hand was busy between his legs and I suddenly knew what I wanted to ask.

“What are you thinking about?”

“That you’re a damn good kisser.”

“No. What are you thinking about…when you’re doing…that?”

“Oh.” Dante let me kiss his cheeks, the stubble poking my lips, and move down his neck with the hard sucking kisses I knew he liked. I thought he really liked the sound my lips made, sucking at his neck, more than the kiss itself, but I wasn’t complaining. It did sound…erotic.

“Oh.” He said again, and I saw that his hand had stopped moving. I looked down, but he hadn’t orgasmed yet. He was just gripping his penis and I asked if I’d hurt him. “No. No, I’m…fine. It’s just…” Dante shook his head and started touching himself again, slower this time. “You.”

“What?”

“ _You_.” Dante said again. “I think of you. When I masturbate.”

I was incredulous. “Me?”

“You.” Dante leaned closer and kissed me. His hand started moving faster. “I think about you kissing me. Out here under the stars. I think about that time you were on top of me and we were kissing. I think about you asking to see me masturbate for you, and then you…then you ask if you can do it yourself. If you can touch me. And I say yes. I always say yes, _Ari_.”

He said my name in that special way again. I shuddered. It was involuntary and I knew Dante had felt it. Dante went still, blinking at me, and then started talking faster, his words falling like the rain we’d once danced under.

“And you touch me, _Ari_.” Another shudder. Dante’s other hand grabbed me at the back of my neck and pulled me into another kiss. “You touch me with your hands and it’s rough and hot and it’s different because no one else has ever touched me like that. Did you know that? No one else, _Ari_.” Dante felt my next shudder through my lips, kissing me so hard I had to open my lips or have them bruised.

“I want you to touch me, Ari. I want you to. And there’s no rush- I don’t want you to if you don’t want to, please don’t…but if you ever did. I know you’d make me feel so good. And I want to touch you. I want to make you feel good and know that I was the one who did that. I want you to want me and do everything with me. You have no idea, _Ari_ -“

“Dante.” I was too choked to say anything else. My throat was thick, but Dante seemed to understand.

“ _Ari_ …”

I closed my eyes and sagged against Dante as he reached his orgasm. I was panting again and the shaking was worse. I didn’t know what to do with myself. We stayed like that for a few minutes, while my heart quit racing.

Afterward, we stretched out beneath the stars again. We held hands. It was too hot to hold hands but we did anyway. Dante’s palm was sweaty and his fingers wrapped around to the back of my hand and rubbed soothingly. I loved him.

“Dante?”

“Mm?”

“You think of me when you masturbate.” I stated.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. So.” I took a deep breath. “When I do that…may I think of you?”

Dante’s hand tightened and he turned his head to look at me, but I kept looking up at the sky.

“You want to know if you can have permission to think of me when you masturbate? I don’t have control of your thoughts, Ari.”

I shrugged and tried to take my hand back, but Dante clung tighter and wouldn’t let me.

“Forget it.” I said defensively. “It just didn’t seem right to think of you the way I was without letting you know. Because I wouldn’t do those kinds of things with you in person without asking first. So I thought…” I trailed off. Saying it out loud made it seem stupid and I felt embarrassed. I wished I hadn’t brought it up.

“What kinds of things do you think about?” Dante asked quietly.

My ears heated up and this time I knew my palm was the one that was sweaty and slicking between us. I withdrew it and rubbed it on my jeans, but immediately went back to holding Dante’s hand. “Different stuff.”

“What different stuff?”

“I don’t know. I think about when you masturbate for me.”

“That’s it?”

“Why do you want to know?” I asked instead. “Because if I’m going to be giving permission, I need to know what that entails.” Dante said seriously. It made me feel better that he wasn’t making fun of me. “I wouldn’t want your imaginary me doing lascivious things I wouldn’t approve of.”

That seemed fair. I sighed and closed my eyes. “I think about when you masturbate for me.” I recited. “I think about me masturbating for you. One night. And us…touching each other.” I drew another deep breath and kept going. “And…maybe…every once in a while…I think about your mouth.”

“My mouth?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“What does that mean?”

I squirmed. I knew Dante could guess what I meant, but he wanted me to say it. “I think about you using your mouth…on me.”

“Here?” Dante asked, smacking a kiss to my cheek teasingly. I giggled and turned my head so he could kiss me, which he did.

“No.”

“Here?” Another kiss, this one on my neck.

“No.”

“Here?” A kiss to the center of my chest. Beneath my ribs, my heart had suddenly kicked up again.

“No.” I fidgeted and wondered where Dante would move next. I thought I knew.

“Here?” This time, Dante’s kiss was right above the buckle of my belt. I drew in a sharp breath and I was glad it was dark because I could feel my penis tenting the front of my jeans.

“No…”

“Here?” Dante moved lower and I daringly thought about not stopping him and what could happen when he kissed me there- but when I saw him lowering his head I surged upward, sitting up and raising his face to mine.

“There.” I was panting again. I couldn’t seem to get enough air. “It was _there_.”

Dante grinned. “Then yes, you can think about me doing that.”

My hand was shaking where I touched his face and his own hand came up and gripped it steadily.

“Thank you.”

* * *

 

It was a few days before I worked up enough courage, but I didn’t feel so guilty the next time I masturbated. Maybe it was because of Dante’s admission that I could, but it was easier to imagine doing certain things with Dante and feel good about it.

Great even.

* * *

 

A week later, Dante and I were back in the desert, in the back of my pickup truck, and Dante had asked again.

“Do you want to watch me masturbate, Ari?”

This time, I had a different answer. “No.”

I could tell Dante was disappointed but he tried to brush it off. “Ok. That’s fi-”

“I’d like to do it. If you don’t mind.”

“You?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, but Dante stared at me, eyes flicking back and forth. He was analyzing me and I waited for him to come to a decision.

Finally, he nodded and we moved to our usual positions and Dante opened his jeans and then there was his penis, laying there, waiting.

Dante went rigid when I first tentatively touched his penis and I looked up to see his eyes wide, staring down at his lap where my hand was loosely wrapped around him.

“Is this ok?” I asked. Dante laughed shakily.

“Yeah, Ari. It’s ok.”

It felt different to touch Dante. Of course it would, because he was a totally different person and I could only feel his reactions as a secondary source, but I did my best. After a few minutes, his penis felt too dry under my hand and I was worried I’d hurt him so I licked my palm like I’d seen him do before. When I returned it to his penis, wet and cool, Dante made a noise like he’d been punched.

I rested my head against Dante’s shoulder and watched my hand move over his penis. I liked the way it looked: my hand wrapped almost protectively around Dante’s sensitive flesh that he was trusting me to touch and take care of and make him feel good. I liked the way his body moved as the good feelings built up and he got closer to coming. I liked that I was responsible for that. I smiled.

“ _Ari_ -“

By now I knew what that meant when Dante said my name like that and I watched, fascinated, as he came, white semen dripping from the tip of his penis and onto my hand in warm rushes.

Dante produced a tissue from somewhere in his pocket and wiped my hand. Then he tossed it aside and kissed me and kissed me.

“Can I touch you?” He almost begged between kisses. “Please, Ari? Please let me touch you.”

I sort of wanted him to. But then, I sort of didn’t at the same time. I knew I could trust Dante. It wasn’t that. And I knew it would feel good. How could Dante ever make me feel anything but good?

But.

“Do you want to watch me masturbate, Dante?” I asked shamelessly and for some reason this made Dante laugh, high and wild, and kiss me until we were both breathless.

“Yes, please.”

* * *

 

It felt amazing to masturbate outside, in the middle of the desert under a sky wide with stars, with Dante Quintana kissing my neck and biting the lobe of my ear and sometimes he nipped too hard but the pain felt good. Dante was breathing hard against me and so was I and when I came Dante pulled away to watch avidly like it was a performance art. He caught the come that was running down my penis with his fingers and tucked them into his mouth.

“You’re gross, Dante.” I didn’t really think it was gross, but I didn’t know what else to say I was so surprised.

“What’s gross about it?” Dante asked. “It’s a part of you, Ari. I want to know _everything_ there is to know about you. I’ll spend the rest of my life, if I have to, figuring you out.”

I loved Dante Quintana. He was the biggest and best mystery that I was going to spend the rest of my life solving.

It had never occurred to me, ever, that Dante thought I was a mystery too. And planned to do the same thing.


End file.
